


You Look the Type

by OmniscientOranges



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniscientOranges/pseuds/OmniscientOranges
Summary: "Just the one bed, then?""Excuse me?"Dean and Cas are on a case. Alone. Well, not technically alone, since there's two of them, but itfeelsalone since Sam isn't there. He'd stayed behind at the bunker mumbling something aboutatrocious filing systemsandeasy salt and burnandyou guys go I'm busy here.Which is how Dean and Cas find themselves standing in a seedy motel lobby where the guy checking them in just had theballsto ask:"One bed? For you and your-" the clerk gestures over to Cas. The implication is clear,you and your boyfriend, you and your partner, you and your husband.-Dean and Cas experience a microagresssion (sorta) at the local one star hotel
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 251





	You Look the Type

"Just the one bed, then?" 

"Excuse me?" 

Dean and Cas are on a case. Alone. Well, not technically alone, since there's two of them, but it _feels_ alone since Sam isn't there. He'd stayed behind at the bunker mumbling something about _atrocious filing systems_ and _easy salt_ and _burn and you guys go I'm busy here._

Which is how Dean and Cas find themselves standing in a seedy motel lobby where the guy checking them in just had the _balls_ to ask: 

"One bed? For you and your-" the clerk gestures over to Cas. The implication is clear, _you and your boyfriend, you and your partner, you and your husband._

Dean stutters, "My, oh. _Oh_ , I- um, I- no. No. We're not uh- we're not," Dean rapidly flaps one hand between the two of them, "we're just, just-" 

"Dean's straight." Cas cuts in, pointedly, but with an edge to it that makes Dean's brow furrow and his head turn in Cas' direction. "Now can we get our keys or not?" 

"Yes, sir. Sorry for assuming," front desk guy says, looking wide-eyed and embarrassed. 

Cas just waves his hand and walks off and out of the lobby. 

Dean stands, mouth open and staring at the spot where Cas just was. If this were a few years ago it would almost be reminiscent of the times Cas would fly away mid-conversation. But if this were a few years ago, Dean wouldn't have been flustered enough about it to even be _having_ this conversation (not that he wouldn't have been flustered, but there are _certain_ feelings about a _specific_ someone he'd developed since then that made this hit way too close to something he didn't want to think about). Dean blinks and looks over at the clerk, then immediately does a heel turn and marches off towards Cas, burying his red face in the collar of his jacket. 

Cas had already grabbed their bags from the trunk of the Impala and pushed into their room in the time it took Dean's brain to reboot enough to engage in higher functions such as "walking" and "breathing normally" and "not having a face comparable to an over-ripe tomato". 

Dean slots his key into the door and turns it, willing his heartbeat to _slow the fuck down, please_. He opens the door and is met with Cas standing next to one of the beds hastily taking his shirts out of his duffle bag and throwing them down with a rustle and a soft _thud_ , one on top of the other. They'd finally gotten Cas to start switching up his outfit every now and again, so at least he's stress unpacking his own clothes and not Dean's (which really isn't so far out of the realm of possibility for him). 

Cas moves with an urgency and an energy that tells Dean he definitely should not, under any circumstances, open his mouth and say a single word for at least the next hour. Maybe even for the rest of the night. 

Dean, never being one to take a hint, opens his mouth anyway. 

"Cas, hey," Dean rubs his hand over the back of his neck _jesus, man, when'd I become such a wimp around him? I'm acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, get it together._ "Uh, about _that_ , it happens sometimes. Not a big deal. People are just, I dunno, they like to act like they know something about you when they really have no idea. Don't let it bother you." 

Cas throws another shirt on the bed, "I'm not bothered by it." 

"Really? 'Cause I think your clothes would disagree," Dean gestures to the pile of now wrinkled shirts on Cas' bed. Cas arches an eyebrow at them, like he's only just realized what he'd been doing. He tosses the pair of pants already in his hands onto the shirts and walks in a huff in Dean's direction. Dean's heart jumps into his throat before he realizes Cas isn't moving toward him, but toward the door behind him. 

"Cas, wait," Dean grabs Cas' elbow when he tries to brush past him. Cas' hand stills outstretched on the doorknob in front of him, stopping at the touch even though he could easily shrug Dean off. That's become a staple of their relationship - Cas letting Dean do things to him he'd refuse outright on principle from anyone else. He angles his head at Dean but, uncharacteristically, doesn't meet his eye. 

Dean stows his crap, takes a chance, and asks, "Just now, why'd you say- you said _Dean's_ straight." He winces slightly at the awkwardness of referring to himself in 3rd person, but that hardly cracks the top 10 most awkward moments of the whole last 15 minutes. 

"Because you are." Cas answers simply, even though he knows it doesn't _exactly_ get at Dean's point. 

"Right." Dean swallows down the urge to correct him with an _actually, funny thing is, I don't really think I am._ "But you could've just said, you know, _we're_ straight. But you said _I_ am - specifically. Why is that?" 

"Dean," Cas says, in a tone that should be accompanied by an eyeroll, but one look at his actual expression betrays a bone deep _worry_ that he isn't able to mask. "Do I really need to answer that question? Can't you figure that out for yourself?" 

"I'd like for you to tell me instead of me assuming and getting it wrong." 

Cas sighs and drops his hand from the doorknob. 

"What would you like me to say, Dean?" Cas says as he walks over to sit on the edge of his bed, nudging the clothes pile over. "That I'm gay? I _would_ say that, but I'm an angel. We're different from humans. I'm different from you." Cas says that last sentence in a way that suggests there's more wrapped up in it beyond angel vs. human perspectives on sexuality. But they don't really have time to get into all that at the moment. 

Dean plops down next to Cas on the bed, and the old springs creak under the added weight. "Yeah, I know angels are different or whatever, but it's just- you've never shown any um, _interest_ in dudes. Not that I've seen at least. I mean, Cas, if I would've known I wouldn't have been trying to set you up with chicks all these years. No wonder you didn't ever really seem into them," Dean lets out a small laugh, "thought you were just shy." 

"Yeah, well, that too," Cas adds, with less worry creased into the lines on his face and a bit more levity. He's finally looking over at Dean now, but he's got a vulnerable look in his eyes that almost makes Dean wish he was still looking away. 

"But Dean, I- that's not exactly accurate." 

Dean's heart rate picks up again, _traitor_ , "What do you mean?" 

Still vulnerable, and back to looking worried too, Cas says, "I have shown interest in "dudes", as you put it, though you are right to say you haven't noticed it." 

Dean's heart is full on slamming against his ribcage now, and in his hysterics his mind briefly flashes to the case they worked where a guy's heart literally beat _out_ of his chest. He hopes there aren't any psychic Looney Tunes fans in a 15 miles radius, or this will be an embarrassing death experience to explain to Sam later. 

Dean puts on some of his battle worn false confidence, "Yeah? Who's the lucky guy?"

Cas tilts his head and smirks, "Would you like me to tell you, or would you like to assume?" 

"Tell me?" 

Cas opens his mouth but stops short and looks down, weaving his fingers together and focusing on his stretched palms in his lap. 

"Cas?" 

"Promise you won't be angry with me?" 

The way Cas says that makes Dean's heart ache. Like he's _expecting_ Dean to be angry with him, even if he promises not to be. 

"I'd never be angry with you." 

Cas huffs out a weary laugh, "Well, we both know that's not true." 

Dean's heart aches again, practically just shatters into pieces. Because Cas is right. Dean can't promise he won't ever be mad at Cas ever again (even though he _wishes_ he could), but he can promise _this_. He can promise he won't be mad about this. 

Dean leans down slightly until he's able to catch Cas' eye so he'll look at him again, "I promise not to be angry." _Hold on, that's way too earnest._ He quickly adds, "Even if it's Sam. Though, I'd probably question your taste in men. I know he's tall, Cas, but there's better fish in the sea, okay? Trust me." 

Cas smiles faintly and shakes his head, "It's not Sam." 

"Good choice." 

Cas takes a nervous breath out, "You. It's you." 

You. 

"Me?" 

_Me._

"Yes." 

Oh _shit._

"Dean, it's alright, I know you don't-" 

Dean, on adrenaline fueled _oh my god he likes me he likes me wait- does he love me? Holy shit what if he loves me_ autopilot, crashes him lips into Cas'. Once his brain catches up with his body, Dean pulls back. 

"I- _Dean-_ " 

"Sorry, sorry, that was-" 

"I thought you didn't-" 

I shouldn't have- I should've asked-" 

"But I thought you were-" 

"Now who's assuming?" 

They stop and look at each other rather than continue their litany of unnecessary apologies. One breath, two, three, four. 

Then they both burst out laughing. 

Dean reaches forward and puts a hand on Cas' knee to stabilize himself, and Cas lifts his right hand up to fit against Dean's shoulder. They both fold hard into each other until the laughter dies down, and when it does Cas moves his free hand to cup the line of Dean's jaw. Dean closes his eyes and leans into it. 

"So," Cas hums, "not straight, then?" 

Dean smiles, "No, no definitely not." And, just for fun (and just to make absolutely sure), "You?" 

Cas drops forward until his forehead rests against Dean's, "No, _definitely_ not." 

After the case, they stop at a different motel on the way back. Only this time they _don't_ correct the clerk when they ask if they'll be sharing just the one bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr, where I continue to make typos in posts that get a lot of notes: omniscientoranges.tumblr.com


End file.
